


April 2018

by babybrotherdean



Series: 365 challenge: 2018 [4]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Fluff, Gen, M/M, POV Outsider, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:43:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 18,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: Collection of 365 ficlets for the month of April.





	1. Ninety-One: Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John’s never been one to make a big deal out of Easter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another soft Easter thing, this time featuring John and babies.

John’s never been one to make a big deal out of Easter. It’s too much of a religious holiday for him to get behind, especially after the fire; though his mother used to bring him to church as a boy, and though Mary always wanted to get the boys baptized- it’s never been something John’s felt particularly connected to. He’s seen too much in his lifetime to believe in a higher power, and normally, he’s content to keep it that way.

But this year… well. This year, he’s got some incentive.

“The Easter Bunny’s comin’ tonight,” Dean tells him with such conviction that John nearly believes it himself. “And me n’ Sammy are gonna find a bunch of chocolate eggs and stuff, and- and you’ll be here, too, right? We can all be together?”

Stronger men would’ve crumbled at the look on Dean’s face, and John goes down right along with them.

He’s given very explicit instructions about what he needs to buy, and John wonders, not for the first time, when Dean managed to grow up so much. He’s barely into the double-digits, but he’s set out his plans for this holiday with military precision, handing John a shopping list and demanding that he return with everything on it before Dean goes to bed. It’s endearing, and overwhelms John with affection, for a moment- right until Dean gives him a firm look, arms crossed over his chest and asking if he’ll have to make the trip himself.

Maybe he’s done too good a job at passing the marine training down to his eldest.

In any case, John does as he’s told and heads out to hit the nearest grocery store. This close to Easter, it seems like most of the chocolate has been marked down, for which John is thankful; it’s not a big hit to his wallet to grab everything that Dean wants. Chocolate eggs and chocolate bunnies, mostly, and John’s got a sneaking suspicion that Dean will be carefully hiding them around the motel room while his little brother sleeps.

On his way to the checkout, John pauses by the bakery section, his eyes lingering on a few festive desserts. Some of them are expensive enough that he balks at the price tags, but others…

Well. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to spend just a little extra money to give the boys a surprise in the morning.

As expected, Dean goes about hiding the eggs as soon as John gets home, on strict orders to be quiet and not wake Sammy. Dean’s so absorbed in his task that John’s able to hide his extra purchase in the fridge without notice. It’s not long before Dean crawls into bed with his brother, and John’s left to get ready for bed, smiling softly with the thought of what’s to come in the morning.

He waits until the boys have finished hunting down the chocolate eggs before pulling the cake out of the fridge, playing casual like he doesn’t notice the way the both of them light up. Sam speaks up first, squeaky with excitement. “Daddy, is that-?”

“Guess the Easter Bunny left us a little something extra this year.” John hums thoughtfully and sets it down on the table, a carrot cake that’s been iced with tiny pastel decorations. He’s got three forks that he lays on the table beside it before grinning at the boys. “I think it’s okay to have dessert for breakfast. Just for the holiday.”

Sam cheers right away, wasting no time in clambering up into a chair so he can grab a fork for himself. Dean’s a little slower to join in, his eyes big and full of wonder as he looks between John and the cake.

“The Easter Bunny brought it?” he asks, his voice hushed, and John nods sagely. “Whoa.”

John sits down with his boys as they start digging into the cake, unable to entirely wipe the smile off his face. He hasn’t been able to give them much since Mary died, and he knows that they deserve so much better. He wonders, some days, if they would be better off with somebody else, somebody who could give them happier, safer childhoods, everything that John’s never been able to provide, but…

Well. At least he can give them a little bit of magic on Easter. That’s got to be worth something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	2. Ninety-Two: Explore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve really never left this place?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little continuation of the abo werewolf J2 thing from earlier :> I wanted to write something re: Jared's selfie that was all dirty and sweaty.

“You’ve really never left this place?”

Over the past several days, Jared has been cautiously accepted as a guest in Jensen’s pack’s territory. He claims to have split from his own pack because of a difference in beliefs, something that had driven him to see out a new group to join, so for now, he’s hanging around the outskirts of their land, getting to know the area as well as its inhabitants as he decides whether or not he wants to stay here. Initially, Jensen had intended to let him do that all on his own, but…

Maybe it’s a coincidence that they keep running into each other when Jensen ventures out in search of some alone time. Maybe Jared’s actively seeking him out. Hell; maybe Jensen’s more driven by his instincts than he cares to admit. Whatever the reason, this isn’t the first time they’ve ended up spending hours at a time wandering the forest, often without conversation as they stay in their wolf forms. Now, though, they’ve settled down for a break, sitting together by a shallow stream and soaking up the sunlight overhead.

Jared’s question doesn’t come as a surprise. He’s made no secret of wanting to learn more about Jensen, and admittedly, Jensen hasn’t tried very hard to fend him off. He likes Jared, more than he likes most people at home, and it’s nice to be able to spend time with him. Even nicer that Jared seems to like him, too.

“No, not really.” Jensen shrugs, looking down at his feet where they’re submerged in the stream. The water is soothing on his bare feet, washing away some of the dirt he’s picked up from their exploration of the forest. “Never really had a need to. We’re self-sustaining, and my family’s here, so…”

He trails off, not entirely sure how to justify it out loud. Privately, he’s thought about leaving before, especially in the moments when pressure from the pack gets too stressful and he thinks about leaving it all behind. Part of him is scared that once he gets a taste of freedom, though, he’ll never want to return, family be damned. It’s terrifying.

Jared hums, quiet for a moment. There’s nothing but the rustling of wind in the trees and the gentle burble of the stream, and Jensen closes his eyes, wondering if he could just fall asleep to this. “Have you ever… wanted to?”

“Yeah.” There’s no point in lying. Jensen suspects that Jared would be able to see through him if he tried, anyways. “There’s a whole world out there that I haven’t seen, but… I don’t know. It’s intimidating, I guess.”

“Yeah, I get that.” When Jensen opens his eyes again, mostly just to look over at Jared- Jared’s eyes are focused on the sky overhead, looking thoughtful. There’s dirt smudged up around his hairline, a sheen of sweat on his skin. It’s hard to look away, and Jensen swallows. “It’s a lot. But… it’s worth it, you know? I started going out when I was a teenager, and just seeing the rest of the world… it makes you feel small, and that’s scary, but it’s good. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Jensen’s caught staring when Jared looks his way, but he doesn’t shy away from it, just meeting Jared’s eyes and watching him smile. “You should do it. Venture out there, I mean. See the world… or at least some of it. And hey, I could come with you, maybe. If you wanted.”

Jensen thinks about what his family would say about that, if he ran off with a strange alpha to explore the rest of the world. They’d be angry, he thinks, or upset. Scared, and maybe rightly so. They wouldn’t want him to go, not when he should be staying home and starting a family of his own, something that’s far overdue for an omega of his age.

He sees the hope in Jared’s expression, and he smiles.

“Yeah,” he agrees softly. “Maybe we should.”

The way that Jared’s eyes light up are absolutely worth the nerves that come with even entertaining such a radical idea. Jensen thinks that he could very easily get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Ninety-Three: Predator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aren’t you supposed to be a predator?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another vampire!Jared thing. :>

“Aren’t you supposed to be a predator?”

Even as he says the words, Jensen can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips; Jared’s been affectionate since they met, but it gets especially noticeable when they’re alone at home. It’s late enough in the evening that he’s up and active, but right now all he seems to care about is snuggling up behind Jensen while he throws together something to eat.

Jared laughs at that, his breathing ghosting over the back of Jensen’s neck and sending a faint shiver down his spine. “Aren’t  _you_ supposed to be scared of me?”

Touché. Jensen tries to keep his attention on the sandwich he’s making for himself, a task that’s already taken far longer than it has any right to. Jared’s presence is incredibly distracting, especially when he seems intent on merging the two of them into one being. “Yeah, maybe. Hard to be scared of somebody who isn’t scary, though.”

A small part of him expects a reaction, especially when he feels Jared smile against his skin, but it still catches Jensen off-guard when he’s tugged away from the counter. Everything happens too quickly for him to follow, and he’s dizzy when they stop. Only a heartbeat has passed, but Jensen’s back is pressed to the wall, now, Jared pressed close and looming. It’s easy to forget how big he is when Jensen’s not looking at him, but it’s impossible to miss now, the way his body blankets Jensen’s entirely.

When Jared smiles, his fangs are clearly on display, and Jensen shivers for an entirely different reason this time. It’s something primal inside him, the part of his brain dedicated to survival that whispers to  _run_.

“Am I not scary enough for you?” Jared murmurs, and it’s all Jensen can do to stay still, pinned to the spot by Jared’s intense gaze as much as the body pressed against his. “Because I can always change that.”

But despite everything, despite the implications of the words and the instincts that drive him to fear the inhuman creature standing before him, despite what his better judgement should be screaming at him-

Jensen smiles.

“You can be as scary as you want.” He watches Jared closely, doesn’t miss the hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The facade cracks, and Jared’s smile goes soft before he leans in to press his lips to Jensen’s, long and gentle. He mumbles into the kiss, not pulling away quite yet. “You’re lucky I’m nice. I don’t think you’ve got any survival instincts at all.”

Jensen decides not to say that he does, in fact, have those instincts. The ones that are constantly begging him to separate himself from Jared, that tell him there’s nothing natural or healthy about willingly bearing his neck to something that could kill him on a whim. He has them in spades, but instead of walking away from the one relationship that’s ever made him truly happy-

Needless to say, he’s gotten good at ignoring them.

“Lucky me,” Jensen whispers, and then Jared presses closer and they’re kissing again, everything else forgotten for those few seconds of intimacy.

Jensen figures he’s doing just fine going against the grain. He’ll take his chances with Jared if it means being this happy for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	4. Ninety-Four: Scare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there’s one thing that Mary’s grateful for since having children, it’s that Dean tends to stick close to her whenever they go out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small soft thing because I was tired and. Needed a thing.

If there’s one thing that Mary’s grateful for since having children, it’s that Dean tends to stick close to her whenever they go out. He’s clingy by nature, constantly in search of affection, and it’s endearing as much as it is reassuring; he’s never been one to wander off when they’re out shopping or to get himself lost at the playground. It’s comforting to always have him within arm’s reach, and in the four years that Dean’s had to explore the world, Mary’s gotten comfortable enough in that fact to let her eyes wander, secure in the knowledge that her son won’t be going anywhere.

It works just fine for her until one day, in a big toy store with dozens of aisles and clusters of other children and parents clogging the whole place, Mary looks up from where she’s been soothing baby Sammy to see that Dean is gone.

It doesn’t feel real right away, and she glances around herself a few times like he might just be hiding behind her, but it only takes a few seconds for the panic to rise. Dean is nowhere in sight in this aisle- toy cars, usually enough to hold his attention for hours- and Mary’s rooted to the spot, trying to breathe.

All she can see are the worst-case scenarios where Dean doesn’t come back, and that dark train of thought pushes her into movement.

She walks quickly, all business now and quietly slipping into hunter mode as she assesses the situation. There are two main exits to the store, so Mary starts towards the closest one, scanning over the other aisles as she walks past. Dolls, bicycles, Lego, stuffed animals-

Dean.

He’s standing there on his own, head tilted back to look up at the toys on the higher shelves, but none of that matters to Mary. She rushes over right away, flooded with relief and trying not to jostle Sammy as she moves towards his brother. “Dean, you can’t wander off like that! You scared me, baby.”

Dean doesn’t respond right away besides to turn towards her, and Mary notices now that he’s got a couple of toys clutched in his arms. Two stuffed dogs, she thinks, soft and new, and- is that why he’s here? Did he just want to find a toy he liked?

“M'sorry,” he says, and he looks so guilty that Mary almost wants to apologize in return. “I didn’t mean to, but- but Sammy needs one.”

He holds up the stuffed dogs, and as if on queue, Sammy squirms in her arms, making a small cooing sound as he reaches for the toys. “See? He’s gotta get one.”

Mary feels her heart melt in her chest, and it’s enough to dissolve the lingering fear from Dean’s initial disappearance. She crouches down so Sammy can touch the stuffed animals, and she smiles, watching Dean watch his brother. “You can pick one for him, then. Looks like he’s already got a favourite.”

Dean brightens and the nods, carefully handing Sammy the stuffed dog he’s touching before returning the other to the shelf. Just like that, he’s in high spirits again, almost skipping as he returns to Mary’s side, one hand curling into her skirt. “Time for home?”

Mary nods, happy to forget the other errands for the day in favour of heading back somewhere safe. With Dean back at her side and Sammy’s new toy close, she starts leading the way towards the check-out. “Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

As much as she could do without the scare of Dean wandering off, she’s weak to the reminders of how much he loves his baby brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	5. Ninety-Five: Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He loves me... he loves me not..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Wincest/Weecest Sam thing. I needed words and I got "sunflower" and "loneliness" so... here we are? 
> 
> It's been done a million times, but I'm tired and at a con. Sue me.

“He loves me…”

Sam doesn’t raise his voice above a whisper, curled in on himself where he sits by the edge of the schoolyard. He can hear his classmates farther away, laughing and enjoying the sunshine, but he keeps to himself today. Just outside the fence that borders the school’s property, wildflowers have sprouted up, nourished by the rainfalls of early spring, and he cradles one between his fingers. Delicate white petals that he plucks, one by one, letting them drift to the ground at his side.

“He loves me not…”

Even though he isn’t like all the other kids at any of the schools he’s been to, Sam knows enough to understand that he shouldn’t feel the things he does about his big brother. Dean is Sam’s entire world, makes him feel warm in the chest and weak in the knees and like maybe he’s got a reason to be in this world, after all. He can’t remember a single day passing when Dean hasn’t summoned butterflies to his stomach, sending him blushing and stuttering and feeling too clumsy, too awkward, too young.

He isn’t supposed to feel this way, so he keeps quiet about it. It’s the one thing that he’ll never, ever tell his brother; a tiny flame sheltered from the wind and rain.

Despite that, though, Sam doesn’t hide from it. He can’t, not when these feelings- warm and soft and safe; sunlight that fills his entire body every time Dean smiles at him- are so present. So impossible to ignore. He holds them close and when he’s alone, he gives himself the chance to feel them. He gives himself the chance to hope.

Sam keeps plucking, and petals keep falling, leaving the flower nearly bare. He tries not to predict the end result when only a handful of petals remain, but it sits in his peripherals as he counts them down, fingers trembling.

“He loves me… he loves me not. He loves me… he loves me not…”

The last petal, and Sam swallows thickly. He shouldn’t get so worked up over something that’s ultimately meaningless, but.

“He loves me.”

Sam clutches the stem of the flower close to his chest, squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Even if there’s nothing else in the world for him to depend on, even though his feelings will stay quiet and hidden forever, even if Dean will never look at him the way Sam desperately wishes he would-

Dean loves him. Beyond everything else, Sam knows, intrinsically, that he’ll always have that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	6. Ninety-Six: Sticky Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere in the bunker, tucked away in the bottom of a duffle bag, there exists a collection of crumpled-up sticky notes, quiet and forgotten in the rush of daily life. They say things like “coffee”, “lamp”, “do not touch”, “your brother needs you”, and they carry more weight than any slip of paper ought to. They’re tinged with fear and sadness and pain, a reminder of an incident best left forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thing from 13.17. Plus also 12.11. Soft thing. Sad thing? Dean thing.

Somewhere in the bunker, tucked away in the bottom of a duffle bag, there exists a collection of crumpled-up sticky notes, quiet and forgotten in the rush of daily life. They say things like “coffee”, “lamp”, “do not touch”, “your brother needs you”, and they carry more weight than any slip of paper ought to. They’re tinged with fear and sadness and pain, a reminder of an incident best left forgotten.

They keep other sticky notes around, too. Blank ones, for research. For Sam, when he leaves annotations in the books he reads. Dean hasn’t touched them since- since, but today, Sam has fallen asleep in the war room, and Dean- Dean wants to have some fun.

He wants to change this, too. This association he’s built around these innocuous little pieces of stationary of being too small and too lonely and too lost.

He can change it.

It’s not hard to think of things to scribble down, once he gets going. “Ass face” and “Kick me” and he’s snickering as he works, sinking right into that headspace where he’s Sam’s big brother and nothing more, nothing less. The part where all he needs to worry about is watching out for Sam and poking fun at him when the opportunity presents itself.

Dean figures maybe he shouldn’t be quite so pleased with himself when he finishes decorating Sam’s shirt before he wakes up; they’re both grown men with world-ending problems on their plates. But there’s a little boy inside of him that’s laughing, that’s biting back a smile and playing innocent when Sam shouts for him, irritated as he tries to pull the notes free.

“Why?” Sam asks, sounding exasperated, and Dean just grins at him, elated with the discovery he’s made and the simple joy in playing a joke like this and the little glances he gets of the sticky notes, stripped of the power they held over him. A tool, now, a catalyst for laughter.

“‘Cause,” he replies with a shrug, and Sam huffs, and then Dean’s focusing again, back on the job, but inside, he’s still buzzing, warm and content for those few extra seconds.

It feels good to have this tiny bit of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	7. Ninety-Seven: Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen doesn’t think that any reasonable person should be outside in this kind of weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another small dragon AU thing. Inspired by the fact that Montreal is cold and I'm emo about J2 being there.

Jensen doesn’t think that any reasonable person should be outside in this kind of weather. It’s below freezing with the threat of flurries on the horizon, and the wind howls past the trees, shaking even the oldest and strongest of the bunch in its quest to uproot the whole forest. He’s bundled up to the nines, but no matter how hard he tries to pull his hat just that little bit further down over his ears, he can’t shake a persistent chill, trying to keep his own shivering to a minimum to avoid drawing attention to himself.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Jared, of course, remains completely unaffected. He’s still convinced that, even in his human form, clothes are an unnecessary hinderance, but Jensen’s managed to at least talk him into throwing on a pair of pants when they spend time together like this. Logically, Jensen knows that Jared isn’t human- that dragons are rarely affected by temperature extremes, and that Jared runs several degrees hotter than any person ever could- but even just looking at him, bare skin and a smattering of scales across his chest and shoulders, make Jensen feel even colder.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles. They might be partners, and they might be getting closer by the day, but he still doesn’t like the thought of appearing weak. Silly, maybe, but he’s sticking with it. Another gust of wind has him bracing his entire body, momentarily concerned that he’ll be swept right off his feet. It’s no weather for flying, though Jared would probably manage, and that’s enough of an excuse to be walking together like this. “S'just- windy. Is it always like this?”

“Around here? Yeah, kinda.” Jared shrugs, apparently unconcerned. “It’s just what the climate’s like. You get used to it after a while.”

Jensen finds that extremely hard to believe. He hunches in on himself a little further, trying to cover as much exposed skin as possible in the hope that it’ll stop him from freezing to death. “If you say so.”

Without warning, Jared closes the distance between them, putting his arm around Jensen’s shoulder and pulling him close without breaking his stride. Jensen makes a face, and he wants to say something, but- but it’s easy to forget how warm Jared is until they’re touching. Especially with the frigid air around them contrasting against it.

“You’ll get sick if you push yourself too hard,” Jared says, matter-of-fact. “We’ll take a break soon, maybe rest for the night. The sun’s going to set in a little while, anyways.”

Jensen briefly considers protesting, but being bundled up against Jared’s side like this makes it hard to turn down the thought of rest. They’ll build a fire, settle down… and it’ll be a little easier to cozy up to his partner’s side and soak up all the heat he’s got to offer. “Alright. Yeah, we can do that.”

Jared nods, and the two of them fall quiet as they keep walking. They’ll need to find somewhere safe to settle, preferably with some kind of shelter from the wind. It might take a little while, but now that Jensen’s tucked in close to Jared, with warmth and a comforting presence to protect him from the wind and the cold…

Walking for a little while longer doesn’t seem quite so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	8. Ninety-Eight: Bridal Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey- hey, c'mon, don’t give me that look. We’re almost there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J2 thing. Re: Jensen trying to leap into Jared's arms at Montcon. I'm. not over it.

“Hey- hey, c'mon, don’t give me that look. We’re almost there.”

Jensen pulls another face just because he can, only managing to hold it for a few seconds before he breaks into laughter. Jared’s right there with him, grinning wide as they make their way down the hallway towards their room. It’s late in the evening, and distantly, Jensen’s worried about noise complaints, but he’s too happy to care; it’s been a long day, and a damn good one, and after a few drinks with their dinner, he’s all wrapped up in a warm sort of elation.

“I’m not giving you a look,” Jensen says once he catches his breath, and he leans into Jared a little more, comfortably tucked into his side. They’re both stumbling a bit, working together to stay upright, a combination of exhaustion and being just slightly tipsy. “You- you’re giving  _me_ a look.”

Jared laughs at him again, steering the way around a corner. Jensen gets a glance at the carpet underfoot and thinks that it looks exceptionally comfortable. “S'it time for bed? We’ve gotta get to the airport tomorrow, right?”

“Today.” Jared lifts his free arm, squints at his watch. “Today. In like… six hours, actually.”

That doesn’t sound good at all. Jensen wrinkles up his nose, but then spots their door at the end of the hallway and brightens up. “Bedtime. Time for bed.”

A soft hum, and Jensen takes the time to pull the room key out of his pocket, reaching out to unlock the door once they reach it. The door clicks open, and Jared reaches for the handle, but Jensen pauses, an idea coming to him.

“Hey- you think you can catch me this time?”

Jared raises an eyebrow at that. “Catch you-?”

Jensen doesn’t give him any more time to think, grinning wide as he tightens his hold on Jared and hops up into his arms. Jared, to his credit, reacts quickly, huffing and puffing and laughing as he manages to get his arms under Jensen’s legs. It’s shaky, and it’s probably not going to hold for long, but Jensen clings tight and doesn’t mind one bit when he gets knocked into the wall as Jared steadies himself.

“I can be your bride,” Jensen says, trying to keep a serious expression. “You gotta carry me through. That’s the rule.”

Jared just laughs again, and Jensen clings tight as between the two of them, they manage to get the door open. Jensen has to duck his head in against Jared’s neck to avoid smacking it against the doorframe, and Jared stumbles a bit over the threshold, but it’s the thought that counts, and they’re trying their damnedest, right?

They’re both breathless with laughter when they make it to the bed, the two of them collapsing into a graceless heap. It turns into something more affectionate as they settle down, pressed close together and catching their breath.

“Time for bed?” Jensen asks once more, softer now. He’s tired, more than ready to curl up under the covers and catch whatever shut-eye they can manage before it’s time to get up for their flight.

Jared nods, and he’s already toeing off his boots, and Jensen does the same, happy to stay right here for the next few hours. “Yeah. Time for bed.”

Jensen smiles, and before long, they’re cuddled up together, warm and happy as they drift off to sleep.

Good days are always better enjoyed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	9. Ninety-Nine: Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I won’t let you fall. Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thing with the school-aged J2 AU thing. A soft.

“I won’t let you fall. Promise.”

Jensen isn’t terribly fond of heights. He’s not scared of them, per se, but it just seems obvious to him that people aren’t meant to be in places where one misstep could end with broken bones or worse. That’s just logic, and sticking to that principle has, thus far, kept him safe from any grievous fall-related injuries.

But then there’s Jared.

Jensen is still tentative about the friendship blooming between them. Everything feels so new and so fragile, all while being as easy as breathing. Jared’s stuck close by him since first approaching Jensen at recess, and Jensen- Jensen is still surprised by how much he likes the company. After being by himself for so long, it’s strange to have somebody around all the time, let alone somebody who considers him a friend.

One of the things Jensen has learned about Jared is that he loves being outdoors. He loves exploring, venturing out into the little forest behind the local park and climbing any tree he can. Jensen just watches, mostly, trying not to be nervous about Jared getting hurt, but it’s nice to just spend the time together with nobody else around to interrupt them. He always has to be home before sundown, which can cut their time together short, but as the days go by and gradually become longer with the shifting seasons, Jensen finds more and more of his time being taken up by his new friend.

That being said, this is pushing it.

Jared’s holding a hand out to him, already crouched on the lowest branch of a big, old oak tree. Its branches stretch up so high that it looks like they might poke some holes in the clouds, and new leaves are just beginning to grow as spring continues on. It’s going to be dark soon, with the sun so low on the horizon, and Jensen’s already uncertain about being out here. His parents might get worried.

“It’ll be okay,” Jared tells him, voice softer now, and Jensen swallows hard. Jared wants to show him something, and he claims that they have to climb up into the tree to do it, and Jensen- Jensen doesn’t want to admit he’s scared. He doesn’t want Jared to think he’s a baby. “C'mon. I’ll be right there beside you.”

Ultimately, it’s the overwhelming amount of trust he has in his new friend that manages to quiet the fear enough for Jensen to nod. Jared lights right up, and then it’s just a matter of following through. Jensen takes Jared’s hand and hauls himself up, swallowing down the part of him that doesn’t want anything to do with this and just focusing on Jared’s encouraging smile.

Together, they start to make their way up into the higher branches, slow and steady. As promised, Jared stays close the whole time, always with one hand hovering near Jensen in case he needs to be steadied. Though he stays quiet, Jensen appreciates the support; there’s something grounding about Jared’s reassurance, and he clings to that, letting it distract him from the fact that they’re so far off the ground. He thinks that if he lets himself go down that train of thought, he won’t be able to recover.

The sun continues to sink lower into the sky, and by the time Jared announces they’ve reached their destination, the few clouds overhead are painted in shades of pink and orange. Jensen puts all of his focus into taking a seat beside Jared, the two of them perched on a sturdy branch and leaning back against the trunk of the tree, but when he finally lets himself really  _look_ -

“Isn’t it pretty?” Jared’s voice is still soft, and Jensen can hear the smile he’s wearing. “Mom said it was gonna be even better tonight. ‘Cause of the weather or something, I guess.”

Jensen doesn’t have words, eyes fixed on the sunset that dusts them in gentle golden hues for these last few minutes of daylight. The colours shift and mingle, cooling into blues and purples as the sun makes its way down past the horizon, and Jensen thinks maybe it won’t be so bad to break curfew. Just this once.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and he doesn’t notice Jared reaching for his hand until suddenly they’re touching, something that feels so good and so natural that he doesn’t hesitate to hold on tight, taking warmth and comfort in the simple contact. “Really pretty.”

Neither of them speak after that, just watching as the last of the daylight seeps away below the horizon, leaving them in darkness after a little while. Even then, Jensen doesn’t want to move, barely aware of the faint breeze or the cooling air or even the height, at this point. All that’s really important to him is the fact that Jared’s still holding his hand, and it feels really, really nice.

If this is what it’s like to finally have a friend, then Jensen thinks he can bear to break a few rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	10. One-Hundred: Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first hints of Dean’s cold start to show up early in the morning. He’s more lethargic than usual when it’s time to wake up, huffing and grumbling and refusing to get out of bed. Sam figures he’s just being lazy, at first, and Sam even takes the initiative to go out on a coffee run in the hopes of luring him into the waking world, but it seems that even the promise of caffeine doesn’t quite do the job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been hit suddenly with con plague and wanted to write a brothers sick fic. Have some s1-ish bros and sick!Dean and. Stuff.

The first hints of Dean’s cold start to show up early in the morning. He’s more lethargic than usual when it’s time to wake up, huffing and grumbling and refusing to get out of bed. Sam figures he’s just being lazy, at first, and Sam even takes the initiative to go out on a coffee run in the hopes of luring him into the waking world, but it seems that even the promise of caffeine doesn’t quite do the job.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sam asks eventually, setting Dean’s coffee on the bedside table for him and sitting at the edge of the opposite bed. Dean’s curled up tight under the covers, looking miserable with dark bruises under his eyes and a paler complexion than he ought to have. “Dean?”

Dean seems to consider that for a moment, slowly pulling the covers up a little higher until they’re tucked up to his ears. “M'fine,” he mumbles, but there’s no conviction behind the lie, and Sam frowns. “Jus’- jus’ tired.”

Sam watches his brother for a few seconds and notices that he’s started shivering, on top of everything else. Of course Dean wouldn’t say anything. “You’re sick.”

Dean squints at him. “Am not,” he huffs, but his body betrays him as he sneezes, then groans. “I’m- m'not sick. Just gimmie five more minutes.”

Sam rolls his eyes at that and stands up, talking again as he starts towards their first aid supplies. They’ve got some meds in there somewhere. “Does your head hurt? Your throat? Fill me in.”

Dean’s silent for a few seconds while Sam starts pawing through his duffle, but when he speaks up, he sounds more subdued. Must be more exhausted than Sam had thought. “Just- hurts. I dunno.”

Even after the years apart, Sam is intimately familiar with the way Dean functions when he gets sick. He tends to hide it until it’s too bad for that to be possible anymore, and even then, he’s got a bad habit of refusing any care. Right now, though, he seems a little more willing to cooperate, and even if it’s just because he’s tired, Sam’ll take what he can get. “How’re your sinuses?”

“Full of shit.” When Sam glances back over, Dean’s almost completely disappeared under the covers, and Sam wonders idly if he’ll be able to talk his brother into drinking some tea instead of his usual morning coffee. “Breathing sucks.”

“You have to breathe to stay alive, Dean.” Sam finally finds what he’s looking for and brings the bottle of pills back over towards the beds, setting them down before heading to the bathroom to fetch a glass of water. “We’ll just take it easy today, alright? You need to rest.”

He knows the protest is coming before Dean even opens his mouth. “No, we- we have to find Dad. I’m fine, just- just gotta get up. Gimmie a second.”

Dean’s making a valiant effort to sit up in bed when Sam returns, and it’s far too easy to nudge him back down into bed. “Rest. You’re just gonna get worse if you push yourself. And you won’t be any good at looking for Dad if you can’t even see straight.”

Cutting off Dean’s response, Sam hands his brother the glass of water and gets a couple of the pills for him to down. “Here. These should make you feel a little better, at least. And I’ll get you some soup or something. You’re on bedrest today.”

Dean pulls a face, but does as he’s told, taking his medicine before squinting up at Sam again. “And here I thought you were pre-law, not pre-med.”

The reminder of Stanford stings, distantly, but Sam shoves it aside. “Yeah, well. Somebody’s got to take care of your ass when you get sick. God knows you’d run yourself into the ground, otherwise.”

It seems that Dean doesn’t have a smart remark for that, so Sam leaves him be, turning on the TV and handing over the remote. “Just get some rest, okay? Taking a day off isn’t the end of the world.”

Dean grumbles a little more, but after some channel-surfing, he finds one of his favourite soaps and quiets right down, apparently content to settle there and take tiny sips of his water as he goes. He drifts off a couple episodes in while Sam gets some work done on his laptop, and when Sam glances over- Dean looks young, vulnerable. Maybe a little better than when he’d woken up in the first place, but still small.

Quietly, Sam sets his computer aside so he can adjust Dean’s blankets, making sure everything’s tucked in as it should be.

“Just sleep for a while,” he murmurs, and Dean doesn’t stir. “Get better, Dean.”

Dean sleeps, and Sam watches over him. It’s a tiny role-reversal that still feels strange, even after spending so much time apart, but Sam can’t help settling into the warm comfort that’s the knowledge of Dean trusting him enough to do this at all.

Despite everything, it’s good to be back here. It’s good to be around to take care of his big brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	11. One-Hundred One: Raw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst part of getting sick, Sam thinks, is how raw it makes him feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still sick. That thing where your entire body hurts and it's like literally anything touching you causes further pain is just. awful. So have some more brothers sickfic, this time with s13ish and Sam is sick and. yes.

The worst part of getting sick, Sam thinks, is how raw it makes him feel. The oversensitivity that makes even the movement of his own clothes against his skin too much, where it hurts to touch anything colder than his own body temperature. It makes him painfully aware of every aspect of his own existence, every tiny brush of contact, and he hates it. Maybe it’s the way it reminds him of the cage, in an abstract way; maybe he just doesn’t like the way it leaves him feeling so completely overwhelmed by something as simple as a cold.

When he wakes up one morning with a sore throat and that familiar ache already taking over his body, Sam doesn’t even bother getting out of bed. God knows that moving will only make it worse.

Even under the blankets, he’s shivering by the time Dean comes looking, cracking the door open after knocking a few times. Sam doesn’t move, occupying himself by staying as still as possible in the hope that he’ll be able to minimize the amount of pain he’s in. “Sammy? You sleepin’ in today?”

Sam stays quiet, and he’s not surprised when his brother comes closer, never one to leave well enough alone. He just listens to Dean’s footsteps until they stop at the side of the bed that Sam’s curled towards, lingering there for a moment. “Sam?”

If only for the sake of reassuring his brother that he’s not dead, Sam offers a quiet grumble, curling in on himself a little bit tighter and wincing at the way his body lights up with pain again. Part of him wants to throw the blankets off so they’ll stop touching him, setting every nerve alight, but the amount of movement required for such an action makes it extraordinarily unappealing.

“Are you sleeping or dying?” Dean asks him, and though it sounds like he’s trying to tease, genuine concern comes through loud and clear. Maybe it’s the fact that Sam’s still in bed this late in the morning, or maybe he’s started giving off some kind of distinctive sick-smell that’s got all of Dean’s overprotective mother-hen instincts running on overdrive. “The sun’s up and everything. That’s usually more than enough to get your ass moving.”

Sam decides not to answer that. Even the sound of Dean’s voice is grating on him, everything but complete silence fraying at his nerves and aggravating his headache. Though he knows his brother means well, the only thing Sam really wants right now is to be left alone to suffer through this, however long it might last. Usually only a day or two.

Dean doesn’t seem to be totally on-board with that plan.

The mattress dips with Dean’s weight, and Sam winces when the blanket is carefully pulled back to free his head. Though the lights are still off, Sam keeps his eyes shut, eager to shut out any stimuli that will overwhelm him even further, and can only rely on his other senses to figure out what Dean’s doing. Not that it’s hard to put the pieces together; the hand that settles on his forehead is pretty self-explanatory, and hurts more than it has any right to.

“Jesus. You’re burning up,” Dean mumbles, and Sam- Sam has to admit that through the pain, the way Dean’s hand feels so cool against his forehead is kind of soothing. “Okay, hang tight for a minute. I’m gonna get you some medicine and shit.”

He’s gentle when he pulls away, and Sam’s torn between missing the comfort and being thankful for the loss of stimulation. He listens as Dean leaves the room again, and he’s left on his own for a few minutes, back to being overwhelmingly aware of every square inch of his own skin. Thankfully, Dean isn’t gone for long, and his presence gives Sam something to focus on besides the state of his own body.

“Here, we’ve got water, pills, cough syrup, throat lozenges…” Dean’s setting things down on the bedside table, and Sam finally works up the ambition to open his eyes a crack so he can watch. Admittedly, there’s some entertainment value in seeing Dean try to juggle the armful of medical supplies he’s gathered up. “I don’t know how your stomach’s feeling, but I could make you some soup… and tea, I guess. You like tea, right? That’ll do you good…”

There’s barely enough room on the table for Dean to cram everything, but he manages, somehow. He turns to Sam, then, and the concern is obvious in his expression. “Do you want something to eat? Or just the tea for now?”

Quietly, Sam is amazed by the fact that they can still be this way. Dean’s just the same as he was as a child when it comes to this sort of situation, eager to jump in and do everything he can to take care of Sam and nurse him back to health. As much as Sam wants to curl up into a ball and stop existing right now, as much as every touch, every sound makes him feel just a little bit worse…

He likes this. He likes it when his big brother takes care of him.

“Just, um- just the tea.” His voice is rough when he speaks, and trying to clear his throat sends him into a short coughing fit. Dean hovers close and he’s ready with a water bottle when Sam finally comes up for air. “Um- yeah. Please.”

Dean nods, making sure that Sam’s capable of drinking the water on his own before heading towards the bedroom door again. “Take the pills,” he calls over his shoulder. “They’ll make you feel better, okay?”

Sam does as he’s told and slowly settles into his bed once more, closing his eyes while he waits for Dean to return. The medicine will make it a little easier to exist, and Sam is secure in the knowledge that Dean won’t be far. Hell, knowing Dean, he’ll pull up a chair and sit down right in Sam’s bedroom until he’s satisfied that Sam’s feeling better.

The thought brings a smile to his face, and Sam sighs softly.

As much as he hates being sick, it’s nice to know he doesn’t have to suffer through it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	12. One-Hundred Two: Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy has always loved the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's raining today and I'm still sick and tired so here's just. A small Weechesters thing. A soft thing.

Sammy has always loved the rain. Even as a baby, the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof of the car was one of the few surefire ways to soothe him to sleep, and that hasn’t changed one bit over the years; any time they drive through a rainstorm, he’ll sit plastered to the window, watching the little droplets chase each other down the glass, tracing out their pathways with his fingertips until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open any longer.

A sleepy Tuesday spent in the motel room of the week reminds Dean of this fact all over again. He’s curled up on the couch, half-watching reruns of some cartoon he’s too old for, but most of his attention is devoted to his little brother. Sammy’s crowded up against the window, stretched up on his tip-toes to get a better view of the grey skies. It’s raining, and it makes Dean want to close his eyes and take a nap. He suspects that Sam isn’t far from that same train of thought.

As it turns out, Sam decides to surprise him.

“Can we go outside?”

Dean pauses, his eyes lingering on the TV screen for an extra second before he turns to face his brother fully, sitting up a little bit. Sam’s eyes are still fixed on the world outside the window. “It’s rainin’. You’ll just get all wet.”

“I got a jacket,” Sam insists, and he turns to look at Dean, puppy eyes at full force. Hell. “An’ we got an old umbrella around here somewhere. Please, Dean? I wanna.”

Dean manages to hold out for a few more seconds before he breaks, huffing out a sigh and starting to get up from the couch. Sammy beams at him. “Yeah, yeah, okay. But only a few minutes.”

Sam practically trips over himself in his rush to get ready while Dean opts to take his time, He’s got a raincoat that’ll do the job and just pulls that on over the soft t-shirt and pyjama pants he’s wearing. The boots are next, knee-high and waterproof, and by the time he’s all suited up, Sam’s bouncing in place by the door, obviously excited. “Can we?”

Despite himself, Dean smiles. It’s hard not to, seeing his little brother so happy. “Let’s go.”

It’s all Sam needs to hear before rushing out the door, and Dean keeps right after him, making sure it’s closed all the way before taking in his surroundings. Clouds dominate the sky overhead, casting the parking lot in a soft, grey sort of sunlight. It feels just as sleepy out here as it had inside the motel with the rain falling, and when he breathes in- yeah. The fresh air is pretty nice.

Sam, for his part, seems to be having the time of his life. He hasn’t even bothered to put up his hood, and Dean doesn’t have the heart to point it out; he’s got his head tilted back, arms spread out by his sides, and he’s wearing a tiny, content smile on his face. Dean gets stuck just watching him for a few seconds, a swell of affection overtaking him, and it’s only when Sam finally opens his eyes and looks over that Dean comes back down to reality.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Sam keeps his voice soft, tempered further by the gentle sounds of raindrops on pavement coming from all around them. “You think there’ll be a rainbow?”

Dean doesn’t know much about how all that stuff works, but he knows the right answer to this question. “I hope so.”

They spend probably too much time outside, stomping through puddles and chasing each other in circles and laughing as the rain continues to pour down overhead. They’re both dripping wet by the time they make it back into the room, and Dean thinks he should be worried about that, but he can’t wipe the smile off his face, left in high spirits as he herds his brother towards the bathroom to take a warm shower.

Maybe the both of them get the sniffles later in the evening, spent curled up together under a couple blankets and watching whatever movie they can find on their little TV, but Dean thinks it’s well worth it to have seen such a big smile on Sammy’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	13. One-Hundred Three: Tucked In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sammy? You awake, buddy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny Weechesters thing.

“Sammy? You awake, buddy?”

Dean keeps his voice soft as he shuts the motel room’s door behind him, conscious of the late hour. He doesn’t mean to be away for as long as he is, but the mechanic shop where he’s picked up a job offers some pretty generous overtime wages, and they need every extra dollar they can get. It still leaves him feeling guilty when he returns to a similar scene every evening: the room is dark, only the TV on to shed flickering blue light on the small body curled up on the couch.

Sam’s always determined to wait up for Dean to get home, no matter how many times Dean tells him that he’s better off focusing on getting a good night’s sleep. Tonight seems to be no different; Dean kicks off his boots by the door before heading towards the couch, smiling faintly when he finds his little brother dozing in front of sitcom reruns.

“No wonder you’re so tired all the time,” he murmurs, the words meant for nobody’s ears but his own. He can’t exactly blame Sam for this habit; it must be lonely spending the night in the motel room after school with only homework and television to entertain him. Still, Dean makes a mental note to talk to him about it in the morning. Maybe it’ll stick if he keeps trying.

For now, though, his only concern is getting Sam to bed so his little brother can get a proper rest. Dean keeps quiet as moves in closer, leaning down so he can gather Sam into his arms and carefully lift him off the couch. Maybe someday, Sam will be too big for this to work- Dean shies away from that thought- but for now, he fits perfectly, curled up against Dean’s chest and not stirring from his sleep but for a quiet sigh as he resettles in his new position.

It’s a short walk to the bed they share, and Dean gently sets his brother down, taking the time to make sure that Sam’s all tucked in before straightening up. He needs to get cleaned up before crawling into bed himself, so for now he just smiles at the picture Sam makes, breathing softly and looking several years younger as he clutches at the sheets. It’s overwhelming, sometimes, how much Dean loves him.

“Night, Sammy,” he says softly, and on impulse, leans in to press a kiss to Sam’s forehead, light and fleeting. “Sleep tight.”

He lingers another moment before heading off to get himself ready for bed, warm and content in the knowledge that Sam is safe. That’s more than enough to settle him down for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	14. One-Hundred Four: Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Jensen serves time in detention is absolutely, positively, undoubtedly because of Jared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More high school AU J2. Still not feeling well and I'm still holding onto a fever, so this might be full of mistakes.

The first time Jensen serves time in detention is absolutely, positively, undoubtedly because of Jared.

Admittedly, he could’ve tried a little harder to avoid it. He didn’t need to look at the note Jared passed to him in class, and he definitely didn’t need to scribble down a response and hand it back. If doing it once was bad, then repeating it several times over had just been asking for trouble; really, they’re lucky they didn’t get caught sooner, or maybe Ms. Peterson had just been turning a blind eye in the hopes that they’d stop on their own. Not that it matters now, because they did get caught, and it lands them in detention for half an hour at the end of the day. Annoying, sure, and he’s dreading having to explain to his parents why he’s going to be so late getting home today, but thirty minutes of relative silence to finish up some of his homework isn’t such a bad thing in Jensen’s eyes.

Besides, an extra bit of time afterwards to hang out with Jared adds another little something to make it worth the time.

“How can half an hour possibly seem so long?” Jared groans as soon as they’re out of the detention room. Jensen has to bite back a smile. “I could’ve heard a pin drop in there. From a mile away. I thought I was gonna lose it.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Jensen shrugs, and it only now occurs to him to wonder if Jared’s been in detention before. “And it’s over now, right?”

“Guess so.” Jared stays quiet for a couples minutes after that as they stop by his locker so he can gather his things. They’re on route again to Jensen’s locker when he continues. “Did you have any plans today? Anything exciting to do?”

That’s an easy question to answer. “Not really.” Jensen shrugs. His locker isn’t far and he can see it now, already reaching out to start putting in the combination. “Just got some work to finish up. Why?”

“No reason.” Jared has the decency to let him finish opening his locker before he grabs Jensen’s arm and spins him around, catching him by surprise as he closes the distance between them. Jared’s got a wicked grin on his face, and Jensen just watches him, wide-eyed. “Maybe we could hang out a bit longer?”

Even after a few months of being together like this, Jared is still exceptionally good at catching Jensen off-guard. It takes Jensen a moment to respond, but then he smiles, relaxing with his back against the metal lockers behind him. “Yeah,” he agrees. “That’d be fun.”

Jared’s smile grows, and then he closes the distance between them completely to press their lips together. It’s startling in its own way; they aren’t very publicly affectionate at school, and even though it’s after-hours now, it feels strange to pair these two separate parts of his life. Jensen embraces it, though, uses his free hand to hold onto Jared’s shirt and let the kiss go on just those few seconds longer before they finally separate, the both of them panting for breath.

Jared speaks first, soft. “My place?”

Jensen just smiles at him. Nods once. “Let’s go.”

They hold hands on the way out into the parking lot. It’s a tiny taste of rebellion, and Jensen revels in it for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	15. One-Hundred Five: Two Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes two weeks for Jared to finally ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ABO werewolf J2 thing. AU. Thing. Idk.
> 
> Not super happy with this but I'm very tired and my head hurts.

It takes two weeks for Jared to finally ask.

With all the time they’ve spent together as Jared adjusts to this place, Jensen has admittedly been growing fond of him. It would’ve been hard not to; Jared’s a very easy person to get along with, and they click right from the start. Even once Jared knows his way around, Jensen finds himself choosing to spend his time with the other man more often than not, and he decides not to think too hard about why that is. Jared is a new friend, and one with whom Jensen has been especially comfortable. Even when the question inevitably comes up, it doesn’t feel terribly out of place.

“Why don’t you have a mate?”

They’re off in the forest, like they usually are, no particular destination in mind as they wander together. Jared speaks so casually that Jensen responds without thinking, the first thing that makes it to the tip of his tongue. “I don’t want one.”

It’s not entirely true, and Jensen corrects himself before Jared can respond. “I mean… there aren’t any alphas around here who I want to be mated with. I’m not just going to pick the one I dislike the least for the sake of having a mate. Doesn’t that kind of defeat the whole point?”

When he glances over, Jared’s got a thoughtful look on his face, forehead pinched together and eyes not focused on anything in particular. “Yeah, I guess so,” he agrees after a moment, and then, “not a single alpha you like?”

“Nobody at home,” Jensen replies, shrugging as he turns his eyes forward again. It’s not something he particularly enjoys talking about, thanks to all the stress it’s caused him over the years. “Guess I’d have to look somewhere else if I ever want to find anybody.”

The conversation trails into comfortable silence after that, and next time Jensen looks towards his friend, Jared still appears to be deep in thought, like he’s trying to figure something out. Whatever the case, it’s not a bad look on him, and Jensen lets himself stare a little bit, a faint smile growing when Jared finally seems to take notice.

“Uh- sorry,” he says with a sheepish grin. “Maybe- maybe you should, then. Go somewhere else, like I was saying. There’s a whole world out there to see.”

Jensen smiles, too, wondering if it’s really all it’s cracked up to be. “Not all by myself, though. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Guess you’re just gonna have to show me around.”

Jared laughs and gives him a playful nudge, and Jensen’s left in a cheerful mood as he wonders how much he means it. Will he ever work up the nerve to leave home for real? Would Jared come with him?

Well. He supposes there’s only really one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	16. One-Hundred Six: Curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It still feels strange to be out this late at night. It goes against Jensen’s natural instincts as well as his biological clock; though he isn’t physically tired, he still finds himself wanting to go home and go to bed. Maybe he’ll get used to it one of these days, but for now, he’s just have to bear with the wrongness of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been watching Vampire Knight and it's put me in a mood.

It still feels strange to be out this late at night. It goes against Jensen’s natural instincts as well as his biological clock; though he isn’t physically tired, he still finds himself wanting to go home and go to bed. Maybe he’ll get used to it one of these days, but for now, he’s just have to bear with the wrongness of it all.

Not that it’s terribly difficult to find a distraction, given the company he keeps.

“You must still have some questions,” Jared insists. They’re walking through the park together, holding hands and taking their time. It’s well after midnight and the place is empty, only the quiet rustle of the wind providing any background noise. With the moon shining overhead and a handful of scattered streetlights to illuminate their path, it’s intimate in a way that Jensen’s never associated with such a public place. “I mean, c'mon. Some guy tells you he’s a vampire and you just accept it?”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that I just ‘accepted it’, Jared.”

A short pause. “Okay, fine, but you didn’t exactly run away screaming, either. Aren’t humans supposed to be curious by nature or something?”

“Maybe.” Jensen shrugs, glancing down at his feet. Truth be told, by that point in their relationship, he’d been too far-gone to care about what Jared was. Maybe that had been stupid of him, given the givens, but it’s worked out just fine so far. “Okay, tell me… have you always been like this? Or were you… turned or something? Bitten?”

Jared brightens at that, squeezes Jensen’s hand. “See, that’s a good question. Nope, I was born like this. A vampire, that is.”

Admittedly, that’s a surprise, and Jensen’s not sure how to respond right away. “Wait, so- that can happen? How? How old are you, anyways?”

Jared laughs. He’s starting to lead Jensen off the path, towards a little bench tucked away under an old willow tree. Jensen goes willingly, settling down on it next to his boyfriend so he can listen to the story that’s coming. “Older than I look. And yeah, it can happen… but only with certain vampires. Pure-blooded vampires.”

“Pure-blooded,” Jensen repeats slowly. “Right. Got it.”

“But people can be turned into vampires, too. Which you already knew, right?” Jared shifts to curl one of his arms around Jensen’s shoulders, pulling him in close. “Not just by being bitten. They need to consume some of the vampire’s blood, too. It would just be messy if every single human bitten by a vampire became one, right?”

Jensen lifts a hand, thoughtless, to touch the barely healed-over bite marks on his neck. Yeah. That wouldn’t be good. “Right,” he murmurs. “Guess that makes sense.”

Jared nods again. “Anyways… I was born like this. I had a mom and dad, both vampires, but that was ages ago. I haven’t seen them in decades, which is just fine with me.”

There’s another story waiting to be told there, but Jensen lets it go for now in favour of resting his cheek against Jared’s shoulder. “Okay, next question. Do you make a habit of hanging out with humans?”

Jared laughs, and Jensen feels the way it vibrates in his chest. “Aw, you’re not getting jealous, are you? No, not really. Besides the obvious part where I need to visit them sometimes for the sake of staying alive… never really saw the point of it.” His lips brush Jensen’s forehead, and Jensen closes his eyes. “I just happen to like you a whole lot.”

“Lucky me.”

“Yeah.” Jared laughs again, softer this time, and curls both his arms around Jensen, hugging him close. Jensen thinks, quietly, that despite all the instincts he’s ignoring, there’s nowhere else he would rather be right now. Not anymore. “Lucky you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	17. One-Hundred Seven: Disconnect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean feels like he’s forgotten how to talk to his little brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thing. Early season one, I guess.

Dean feels like he’s forgotten how to talk to his little brother. Sure, maybe it’s been a couple years since they’ve spent any time together, and maybe he’s trying a little too hard to make things work the way they used to, but he just-

Sam seems uncomfortable in his presence, like maybe that time apart healed something over and Dean being here now is just picking at an old scar. He doesn’t respond the same way to Dean’s usual sardonic humour, and the music seems to genuinely be getting on his nerves, and ten miles into the trip, Dean stops humming along because he feels too self-conscious about it to bother. Sam won’t sit still, either, constantly fidgeting in the passenger’s seat, keeping his eyes firmly on the scenery outside his window and seeming to do his very best to ignore Dean’s existence altogether.

It stings. Even after everything, after the separation and the distance, they’re still supposed to be brothers, and Dean- hell, Dean had figured that would beat past everything else and make this whole reunion easy. Maybe he puts too much stock in fairy tales and happy endings, because no matter how many wishes he’s made, no matter how many times he’s dreamed about having his brother back by his side, none of this is working. It’s raw and uneven and it just doesn’t fit.

Dean thinks maybe he’s at fault, too. Taking Sam’s jokes too personally and curling a little closer in on himself every time his brother makes a reference to someone or something he doesn’t recognize. Four years is a long time, and maybe college has changed Sam more than Dean thought possible; maybe they’re just not compatible anymore. Maybe they’ll never fit the way they used to.

None of that stops Dean from trying to make it work, clinging hard to whatever faint hope he’s got of reestablishing this relationship. Even if it means working through the awkwardness and uncertainty, even if it means enduring the way Sam looks at him like he’s- like he’s something wrong. Like he’s out of place more than he’s ever been before. Even if it means having to force this into something salvageable, force it into something that resembles the relationship they used to have-

Dean’s not going to stop trying. Not until Sam makes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	18. One-Hundred Eight: Freckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thinks that it would be much easier to fall asleep if Sam weren’t mumbling to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love freckles ;-;

Dean thinks that it would be much easier to fall asleep if Sam weren’t mumbling to himself.

“How’d you even get these back here? S'been ages since we went to a beach…”

It’s quiet in the motel room, the two of them just about shut down for the night as the unseasonably cold wind blusters about outside. With no case on the go, they’re stuck in a bit of a limbo, something that leaves Dean feeling twitchy. Admittedly, it’s nice to have a chance to rest, but he can’t quite silence his drive to be doing something. Right this second, it’s faded into the background as he settles down for bed. In just his sleep pants, he’s laid out on his stomach, half-watching some old cop show on the TV while his brother supposedly gets some research done. It seems, however, that Sam has gotten distracted.

His fingertips are feather-light against the small of Dean’s back, tracing out nonsense patterns and sending shivers up Dean’s spine as he tries to stop himself from squirming. Sam’s been doing this for as long as he can remember, forever fascinated by the smattering of freckles on Dean’s skin, and Dean’s long since gotten over being embarrassed about it. It’s almost kind of soothing, sometimes, so right now he just closes his eyes and focuses on the brush of fingers against his skin.

“We should do that, when it gets warmer,” Dean mumbles. “Go to the beach.” They rarely have time for that kind of getaway, but it’s a nice thought. Sun shining overhead, digging his toes into the sand, going swimming… “S'been too long.”

Sam hums in response, staying quiet for a moment as he starts petting down the length of Dean’s spine. “Still doesn’t explain how you’ve still got freckles down here.”

If Dean wasn’t so sleepy, he thinks he might have rolled his eyes. “They don’t jus’ disappear every year, Sam.”

Sam grumbles at that, and then finally stops talking, seemingly content to just run his fingertips- and then, eventually, his hands, careful and slow- over Dean’s back, mindless, soothing motions. Dean’s going to drop right off to sleep at this rate, and he doesn’t have one single thing against that idea.

Just as he’s on the cusp of unconsciousness, Sam speaks up again, quietly. “We should,” he says. “Go to the beach again.”

Dean smiles, just faintly, and drifts off to sleep with the imaginary feeling of the sun on his skin, accentuated by his brother’s careful touch. Yeah. That would be real nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	19. One-Hundred Nine: Seeing Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keeping an eye on the Winchesters isn’t nearly as fun a job as it sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild spoilers for 13.19.
> 
> I love Jessica-the-reaper so much. So, so much. This is like... outsider POV Wincest, basically.

Keeping an eye on the Winchesters isn’t nearly as fun a job as it sounds.

Look, Jessica can give them this much: they’re not boring. Mostly. With an existence dedicated exclusively to escorting the recently-deceased to their eternal resting place, she isn’t used to observing most of human existence up close, and at first, it sounds like a fun opportunity. Of all people to watch, Sam and Dean are certainly some of the most important subjects she could’ve possibly been assigned, and it’s an honour to have been handed a special task by Death Herself, but-

Well.

At first, it’s just a matter of getting used to the mundane parts of their lives. Lucky for her, the two of them tend to spend most of their time in close proximity, which makes it astonishingly easy to keep watch over both of her charges. When they’re not out hunting- something particularly exciting to observe; monsters have always fascinated her in a scientific sense- they spend a lot of time in the bomb shelter they call home, just… being humans. It’s disappointing, in a way, but there’s not much Jessica can do but get used to it.

Sam usually wakes up before Dean does, but he doesn’t eat until his brother shows up in the kitchen. They take turns dealing with household chores, often with a fair amount of bickering involved (Jessica has been watching very carefully, and she’s sure that no matter how vehemently Dean insists that it’s Sam’s turn to do the laundry, Sam definitely did it  _last_ week), and they take turns making runs out to town for groceries and other supplies. Though they live fairly hectic lives, what with all the running around trying to save the world, it’s easy for Jessica to pick out the patterns that emerge. Humans are creatures of habit, after all.

A few habits in particular start to stand out to her, though, as the weeks go by. Habits that seem… well, perhaps she isn’t the best judge of what can be considered  _ordinary_ among humans, but something doesn’t seem quite right with it all.

It’s the little things that she notices first. The way the Winchesters move around each other, when nobody else is around (to the best of their knowledge, anyways). It’s closer, more intimate than anything Jessica sees from them in other circumstances; Dean seems to be especially fond of hanging all over his brother whenever Sam’s sitting at his laptop and trying to work. It’s fascinating, and no matter how closely Jessica investigates, she can’t find any obvious reason for the closeness.

Maybe it’s just the way they behave in private. She’s just about ready to dismiss it as an inexplicable human quirk until things…  _escalate_.

Of course Jessica is familiar with the concept of kissing. What she doesn’t recognize is why a pair of grown brothers should be doing it quite so frequently and with quite so much enthusiasm. The boys seem to have no regard for the way they bump into furniture, walls, countertops, or anything else that dares to get in their way as soon as their lips are locked together. It almost looks like they’re fighting, sometimes, and then other times, it’s gentler, quieter. That’s usually when one or both of them have been recently injured or nearly killed, Jessica notes.

Maybe this sort of information isn’t exactly the sort she’s supposed to be gathering, but she can’t help but be a little curious.

And, well- then things go  _beyond_ the kissing.

Sex. Right. Jessica knows exactly what sex is, and how important it is to humans. On a few fun, if admittedly rare occasions, she’s had the pleasure of collecting people right in the midst of the act. Too much exertion, weak cardiovascular system; it’s like any other physical activity. And like any other physical activity when it comes to the Winchesters, Sam and Dean approach it with enthusiasm and just a hint of violence.

Really, they ought to have more consideration for their poor headboard. It’s a good thing that they don’t have any neighbours.

If Jessica has learned one thing during her time here so far, it’s that the Winchesters have an extremely unique relationship, and that their dynamic shifts back and forth depending on the situation. Sex is no different; she’s especially curious about the soft way they look at each other, the way it contrasts with the bruises they leave behind. It’s also the first time she gets a good, proper look at Sam’s  _very_ impressive…

…well. Let nobody ever say that Dean Winchester isn’t a brave man. That’s for sure.

Jessica might not understand everything about Sam and Dean Winchester. She thinks it would be difficult even given an eternity to watch their interactions at her own discretion; they’re a complicated pair of men, to say the very least. But the small glimpse she’s had of their lives, from the boring to the nearly-deadly to the painfully, excruciatingly intimate-

(she supposes she can’t blame them for that- there’s only so much that a bonded pair of souls can do to connect on the mortal plane-)

…she can at least say that she’s happy for her assignment. There are plenty of other humans trudging through their day-to-day lives, but Jessica is confident that not a single one of them is as interesting as the Winchester brothers.

(Or as deeply damaged, twisted, inseparable, important, stupid, suicidally  _reckless_ -)

Well. At least they’re not boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	20. One-Hundred Ten: Voyeur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not until Sam tries to kiss him that Dean remembers they might not be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little thing featuring Jessica the reaper. Tiny spoilers for 13.19. Wincest.

It’s not until Sam tries to kiss him that Dean remembers they might not be alone.

Jessica had vanished along with Billie, back when they’d been with Rowena, and Dean had forgotten all about her in the aftermath. He’d had a pounding headache from being hit so many times, and the beer had added a pleasant buzz to everything, just enough to take the edge off. It’d been easy to forget all about their self-proclaimed baby monitor- at least until now.

Sam frowns when Dean leans out of his reach, looking kind of hurt from it. Shit. “What’s wrong?”

They’re back at home. Rowena’s off on her own, and Castiel still hasn’t made it back, so Dean supposes he doesn’t have any good reason for not being receptive to their usual displays of affection. Not an obvious one, anyways. “Didn’t you- I mean, you figure she’s still hanging around?” He lowers his voice, glancing around like Jessica might materialize. “Watching?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise, and he gives Dean a look that makes him feel like he’s being unnecessarily paranoid. “What, the reaper?”

“Yeah.” Dean makes a face, glancing around once more. Based on their brief interactions, she seems to have a special fondness for catching him off-guard with her appearances, and he refuses to let it happen again. “She said that was her job. And that she’d seen  _everything_.”

“Uh.” Sam looks like he’s struggling not to laugh, now, and Dean scowls. “I mean, I guess she might be. Not a whole lot we can do about it if she is.”

It’s an unfairly good point, and Dean huffs out a breath before straightening up slightly. “Hey, Jessica?” he says, louder. “You still creepin’ on us?”

Silence. Nobody appears out of thin air to tease him about his porn preferences, and Dean’s not sure whether that’s a good thing or not.

“Dean, even if she is here…” Sam shrugs when Dean looks his way. “You said it yourself. She’s already  _seen_ everything.” He steps closer, and Dean doesn’t move away this time, watching him uncertainly. “So there’s no harm if we do this, right?”

It makes sense, and Dean narrows his eyes slightly. “You sure you’re not just secretly getting off on somebody watching us?”

Sam rolls his eyes that time, but he’s clearly biting back a smile and Dean kind of wants to smack him. “Pretty sure.”

This time, when Sam leans in, Dean doesn’t move away, closing his eyes and relaxing into the kiss. It’s a little easier to forget about their potential supernatural voyeur with Sam’s lips moving against his, and Dean’s glad for it, reaching up to wrap his arms around his brother’s neck and pull him in a little closer.

If he hears a faint giggle in the midst of the make-out session, then- well, it’s a hell of a lot easier to ignore when he’s got Sam distracting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	21. One-Hundred Eleven: Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s always in the quiet moments; the aftermath; the liminal space between two points in time when Jensen is hit hard in the chest with the realization of how lucky he really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reading The Symposium for class, and the speech that Aristophanes gives made me really emotional about soulmates and completing each other and all that stuff.

It’s always in the quiet moments; the aftermath; the liminal space between two points in time when Jensen is hit hard in the chest with the realization of how lucky he really is.

It’s a late night on set, or a long plane ride after a convention, or it’s right now on the cusp of midnight in the bedroom they share, lit silver by the moon as it peeks through the curtains and not a whole lot else. It’s Jared, already mostly sleeping, exhausted after a long day at work and a longer career, working away at the show that brought them together for more than a decade with no end in sight, and it’s Jensen, quietly watching him and thinking about how he managed to get here.

It’s scary to think that, had he not gone to that audition, he might never have met his soulmate.

It’s a thousand little happenstances that led to this moment, that brought him to Jared and allowed everything to fall into place. Workings of fate beyond his comprehension; his head hurts trying to put all the little pieces together, and maybe none of it matters, in the grand scheme of things. No more than in the very fact that it all contributed to this.

Jared’s eyes are closed, but Jensen doesn’t think he’s gone quite yet. Sure enough, when he reaches out, brushes his fingertips over Jared’s forehead to brush his hair out of his eyes- Jared’s lips curve up at the edges, something soft and private that’s reserved just for Jensen. Nobody else gets to see this part.

“Can’t sleep?” Jared asks him, and his eyes open, too, just a crack- just enough for Jensen’s heart to stutter in his chest, forever overwhelmed by the fact that this is his. That despite the infinitesimally small chances of every detail lining up perfectly to bring them together, to allow for any of this to have happened in the first place, they’re here. They complete each other, and no force will ever be strong enough to tear them apart in any way that matters.

Jensen blinks and things return to normal. Jared’s still watching him, a faint smile on his face and something fond in his expression. He asked a question. Right. “I’m okay,” Jensen says. Shifts so he can lie down properly, not taking his eyes off of his other half. “Just… thinking.”

Jared hums, and then he’s moving, arms wrapping around Jensen and pulling him close. Jensen doesn’t stop him, more than happy to curl into Jared’s warmth, resting his head on Jared’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. More often than not, it’s a mirror of Jensen’s, the two of them connected in ways that Jensen’s not sure he’ll ever understand. “Try to get some rest,” Jared tells him, voice going soft at the edges. “S'been a long day.”

Jensen nods, eyes already slipping shut so he can focus on Jared’s arms around him and the familiar beat that quietly works away under his ear. He is tired, truth be told, but there’s one more thing he has to say before they both fall asleep, sitting heavy and insistant at the tip of his tongue.

“I love you.”

If anything, Jared manages to pull him even closer. Jensen can feel the brush of lips against his forehead, and he feels safe here. Warm. “I love you, too,” Jared says quietly, and Jensen breathes out, something settling deep in his chest. “Night, Jensen.”

Jensen falls asleep feeling like this is as close as he’ll ever get to being whole. As long as Jared is by his side, he thinks he can deal with the moments in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	22. One-Hundred Twelve: Earth Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can we plant ‘em? Please?”
> 
> Dean’s never been any good at saying no to his little brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Weechesters thing for Earth Day.

“Can we plant ‘em? Please?”

Dean’s never been any good at saying no to his little brother.

Sammy says that he got the little baggie of seeds from his kindergarten teacher. Everybody in class got some, he tells Dean, because today is Earth Day and they’re supposed to do something special to celebrate. Apparently, 'something special’ means planting some flowers in the family garden.

Dean’s about to remind Sammy that they don’t have a garden, but Sammy’s already two steps ahead of him. “We can do it at the park! Near the big tree and the bench?”

And that’s how they find themselves at the park, the two of them sitting in the dirt while Dean makes sure they’ve got what they need. Sammy’s still holding onto the seeds, and Dean thought to grab a water bottle on their way out. Other than that, they’re ready to go.

“We gotta dig,” Sammy tells him, matter-of-fact. He sets down the bag of seeds like they’re made of glass, then turns his attention to the patchy ground under them. There’s some grass, but it’s speckled with big areas of dirt, and that’s what Sam digs his fingers into, starting to clear out some space. “They all need little holes.”

This part, Dean can definitely get on-board with. It’s actually pretty fun to dig the little holes in the ground, Sammy taking charge to make sure they’re deep enough (“one pinky deep, Dean!”) and spaced apart evenly. The sun shines overhead, dirt gathers under Dean’s fingernails, and he thinks that this is a pretty good way to spend an afternoon.

The seeds come next, and Sammy tells him all about them as he picks them out of their bag. “They’re sunflowers,” he announces, carefully dropping one in each of the little holes they’ve made. “They grow up really big and tall, and they’re bright yellow, and they always look at the sun, 'cause they like it so much.”

“Yeah?” Dean makes a thoughtful sound, tilting his head back to squint up at the sky. The sun’s pretty great, but he thinks he’d get pretty tired of looking at it all the time. Plus, he’s heard it makes people blind if they look right at it. “They must really, really like it.”

Sammy just hums at him, intent on the task at hand. Before long, he’s covering the seeds again with the loose soil they’ve stirred up, and Dean goes back to helping him, careful to follow the instructions he’s given. “Don’t push it down too much, or else the little baby flowers can’t get to the sun.”

Dean nods, thoughtful. “That’s no good.”

When it comes time to add the final touches, Dean hands the water bottle to his brother after unscrewing the cap, letting Sammy gently sprinkle some water over the whole area. “Now they’ve got stuff to grow,” he says, voice soft, and Dean just watches with a tiny smile on his face. “Food an’ water. And they’re gonna have sun, too, when they get big enough.”

Dean’s ready when Sammy clambers into his lap, hugging him tight and smearing dirt all over the back of Dean’s shirt. Dean doesn’t mind. “You think they’re gonna grow? And get really big and pretty and stuff?”

Quietly, Dean suspects that they won’t be in this town long enough to see whether or not Sammy’s flowers grow. There’s no telling when Dad’s going to uproot them and bring them to some other town in a different state, far away from this little park. There won’t be anybody around to water the flowers, or to check on them after school, or to make sure nobody pulls them up out of the ground and stops them from growing.

Looking at Sammy’s face, though, he can’t say any of that. He isn’t about to hurt his baby brother that way.

“Yeah, Sammy. The biggest and the prettiest.” He wraps his arms around Sammy to hug him close, his eyes going to the little patch of dirt where the seeds have been planted and hoping that they make it through, no matter how lonely they might get. “They’re gonna be amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	23. One-Hundred Thirteen: Nobody Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen wonders, sometimes, whether dragons are always this tactile or if it’s something completely unique to Jared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon AU again. I'm still in a soulmate kinda mood.

Jensen wonders, sometimes, whether dragons are always this tactile or if it’s something completely unique to Jared.

It’s easier to miss when Jared’s in his dragon form, but with how much times he spends as a human now, it’s impossible for Jensen not to notice. At first, it’s just a matter of sharing body heat- humans are extremely fragile, according to Jared, and he’s taken it as his personal duty to make sure that Jensen doesn’t so much as shiver when it can be avoided- but it starts to develop further as the weeks go by. Jared doesn’t seem to have much of a concept of personal space, and- okay, Jensen can’t blame him for that, either. There’s something about the bond between them that favours close contact, and maybe that’s all this is about. Maybe Jared’s just following his instincts, and Jensen’s only noticing because he’s been without this kind of a relationship for his entire life until this point.

Whatever the case, he can’t deny that it’s kind of nice.

“I never asked about your family, did I?” They’ve got a fire going tonight, though it’s starting to warm up as the long winter comes to an end. It’s comforting and provides some light as they sit together, Jensen pressed up close to Jared’s side because it’s how they do things, these days. It’s very quickly come to feel natural. “I mean… do you have one?”

He knows from his studies that it isn’t common for dragons- especially wild ones- to stick close with their relatives, so it isn’t surprising when Jared shakes his head. “I’ve encountered my parents a few times, and I suspect they’ve had other children, but I was never close to them. I was alone when I hatched, and I stayed that way growing up. It’s just how things are.”

Jensen nods in understanding, eyes settling on the fire in front of them as it spits sparks up towards the sky. Between it and Jared, he’s perfectly cozy, even with the faint breeze that’s kicked up since the sun went down. “I haven’t been with my family for a long time. We, um- we just didn’t get along very well. I left when I was old enough to be out on my own.”

Jared’s response to that is to pull Jensen more firmly against his side, his arm tucked around Jensen’s shoulders to hold him close. Jensen feels very small like this, and very safe. He can almost hear Jared’s heart beating, feels the warm scales under his cheek when he rests his head on Jared’s shoulder. It’s comforting. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice quiet. “Do you miss them?”

“No.” Jensen shakes his head. He used to miss having them around, if only for the sake of company and companionship- the feeling of belonging to something greater than himself- but it’s faded, as of late. “I’m happy now. Happier than I would’ve been if I stuck around.”

The brush of lips against Jensen’s temple comes as a surprise, but it’s a good one- the kind that makes him shiver, despite the warm body he rests against. He thinks it’s got something to do with their bond, but whatever the case, he hopes it might happen again soon.

“We don’t need anybody else.” Jared still keeps his voice low, and it’s softer now. “Isn’t that the point of all this? I was meant for you, and you were meant for me.”

The words settle in Jensen’s chest, hitting somewhere deep. He closes his eyes and turns his head, just for the sake of curling a little bit closer to Jared. He doesn’t know how to define their relationship, but calling Jared his partner is about as close as he can get. It’s more than that, though, more than anything he thinks he could ever put into words; the part that makes it hard to breathe when he remembers that time before, or that tugs at something in his core that’s vital and good, that leaves him wondering how he was ever supposed to exist on his own-

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s soft, too, content in the way Jared holds him right now. They’ll settle down for bed, soon, and Jared will shift for the sake of safety, and Jensen will curl up as close to him as he can manage. “This is more than enough.”

They don’t talk after that, with only the crackling of the fire to provide a counterpoint to the gentle beat of Jared’s heart to which Jensen devotes most of his attention. The connection between them is strong and whole, almost tangible when they’re close like this, and Jensen holds on tight, intent on strengthening it even further as time continues to pass.

Jared’s right. They don’t need anybody else. Not so long as they’ve got each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	24. One-Hundred Fourteen: Flower Crowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You gotta be really gentle, okay? Make sure you don’t tear ‘em.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That AU with tiny Jared and Jensen at school and they're cute and small and in love, probably. 
> 
> I really like flowers.

“You gotta be really gentle, okay? Make sure you don’t tear ‘em.”

Jared nods seriously, and Jensen focuses on his work again, brow furrowed in concentration. They’re outside for recess again, off on the far end of the field by themselves. It’s been a few days since the lawn has been tended to, and it grows tall and soft and unwieldy; more interesting, though, are the early spring flowers that poke up among blades of grass, tentative with the lingering threat of cool weather but growing up tall and beautiful all the same.

Jensen’s carefully picked a few of the flowers, and they rest in his lap now, waiting their turn while he works. In his hands, he holds two of them, showing Jared the right way to weave their stems together so they’ll stay put. “See? And then you just add another one and do the same thing again.”

Jared makes a thoughtful sound, and when Jensen glances up at him, his friend is doing exactly as he’s been shown, gentle and meticulous. When he gets the flowers to fit together, he smiles brightly, holding them out for Jensen to see. “Like this?”

With Jensen’s approval, both of them continue working. Jensen can go a little bit faster, since he’s had practice and he’s good with his hands, but he chooses to take his time, anyway. Mostly, it’s because his eyes keep returning to Jared to watch him work; his hair is falling into his eyes and his tongue pokes out between his lips, though he doesn’t seem to have noticed. Slowly, Jensen stops working altogether; as it turns out, Jared is incredibly distracting, and the way the sun’s shining overhead, softening him and leaving a golden glow on his skin, and Jensen-

“D'you already finish?”

Jensen gets caught staring, and it’s embarrassing, and he feels his cheeks heat up when Jared looks at him, open and curious. Jared smiles, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Jensen duck his head, shy all over again. It takes him a moment to remember how to speak, trying to settle himself by going back to weaving. “Um- no. Did you?”

“Almost!” When Jensen works up the nerve to lift his head again, Jared’s holding out the nearly-complete circle to show him. “Do I just connect it at the end?”

“Yeah.” Jensen nods once, then focuses on his own flowers while Jared sorts that out. Within a couple minutes, Jensen tugs the final knot as tight as he dares and lifts the little flower crown to inspect; it’s a little messier than he usually manages- for that, he blames Jared’s distracting presence- but it stays together and the flowers remain soft and bright. That’s always the most important part, he thinks.

“Wow, it’s beautiful!” Jared seems to think so, too. His eyes are wide with wonder when Jensen looks at him, and then he’s scooting closer, ducking his head down. “You gotta crown me now! I’m the king.”

Jensen smiles at that and does as he’s told, bringing the circlet of flowers onto Jared’s head and setting it down delicately. He makes sure it’s sitting in the right spot and takes a tiny, indulgent moment to brush his fingertips over Jared’s hair, then sits back, humming in approval. “You’re the king of the flowers.”

Jared beams at him, then lifts his own completed crown, just as pretty and just as good. “Can I crown you, too? You can be my queen!”

That’s got Jensen blushing all over again, and he feels like protesting- boys aren’t supposed to be queens, he thinks, and they’re definitely not supposed to be married to other boys- but the happiness in Jared’s expression and the rush of butterflies in his own chest does Jensen in. Slowly, he lowers his head down and stays still to let Jared put the crown on him, only straightening up once his friend makes a small sound of approval. “Now you’re even prettier than before.”

It’s embarrassing, but. But there’s something warm in Jensen’s chest, too, something that tingles and he kind of wants to hear it again. He keeps that to himself, though, instead choosing to offer Jared a small, shy smile. “Thanks.”

Jared shuffles closer to sit beside him, and they drift into other conversation, filling the time until the bell will ring to call them back inside. Jensen runs pollen-stained fingers through the grass at his side and feels his heart flutter every time Jared’s arm bumps against his, a tiny bit of contact that makes him feel- makes him feel-

It’s warm and it’s soft and it’s good. He doesn’t have a word for it, but if he inches a little bit closer to his friend so that he gets to feel it just a little bit more, well. He thinks that’s okay for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	25. One-Hundred Fifteen: Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You guys played really well,” Jensen says, completely sincere. “Sometimes it just goes this way, right? You can’t win ‘em all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Leafs lost their game seven, and I was sad about it, so have more of that J2 AU with Jared as a hockey player and. Stuff.

“Hey, c’mon. Ease up.”

Jensen keeps his voice soft, lifting a hand to brush Jared’s hair out of his eyes. They’re sitting in the stands together, the arena mostly empty this long after the game. The away team has gone off to celebrate, the home team has trailed off with their heads down, and Jared’s still got that pinched look on his face, eyes on the floor under his feet. He gets like this, sometimes, after a big loss, and Jensen knows there’s not much he can do but help his boyfriend ride it out.

“You guys played really well,” Jensen says, completely sincere. “Sometimes it just goes this way, right? You can’t win ‘em all.”

Jared sighs, finally lifting his head to look out onto the empty ice. Jensen’s already quietly planning what to do when they get back to the apartment, how to cheer Jared up or at help him forget about it for a while. “Yeah, I guess,” Jared murmurs, but still sounds dejected about it. “Just… sucks.”

Jensen leans in to press a gentle kiss to Jared’s cheek, reaching down to take his hand. “I know. I’m sorry.” He squeezes Jared’s hand before standing, gently tugging him to his feet. “Let’s go home, okay? No sense in hanging around here. It’s cold.”

It’s a weak excuse, since they both spend so much time here, but it seems to be enough for Jared as he stands up with a soft breath. “Yeah, okay.” He pauses, looking at Jensen with a hint of hope. “Can we order pizza? With the cinnamon bread?”

Jensen smiles at that, stretching up on his tip-toes to give Jared a proper kiss. “We can do whatever you want,” he promises.

Jared actually brightens at that, looks playful for a moment. “Anything?” he teases.

“Anything.” Jensen rolls his eyes and keeps smiling, turning to lead the way out. “C’mon, we’re eating time. There’s pizza to eat.”

Jared’s in lighter spirits by the time they get to the car, and Jensen feels like he’s done a good job so far. They’ve got a few hours to kill before they’ll crawl into bed, and Jensen’s already coming up with plenty of ways to keep the smile on Jared’s face a little bit longer.

It always hurts to lose, but it doesn’t have to be so bad with someone around to help soften the blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	26. One-Hundred Sixteen: Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t be without you.” Sam’s quieter, when he continues. He shifts around a little bit, a subtle way to close the distance between them, and Dean lets it happen. “Not again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for 13.20. 
> 
> That brothers scene at the end got me all fucked up. Wincest if you squint.

It’s been silent in the bunker for hours. Neither one of them has said a word since their talk, since Sam’s- fuck. Dean doesn’t think it’s fair to call it an ultimatum. Not when it’s how they’ve always been, so quick to lay down their lives to protect each other; to throw away anything and everything in favour of staying together, damn the consequences. But it’s an unspeakable thing, the sort of thing that brings cosmic consequences, that drags them right to the edge of the apocalypse and leaves them both desperate and aching and searching for every other option, every fraction of a chance that they’ll be able to stick together just a little bit longer.

It’s a lot to process when he hears it spoken aloud.

“Did you mean it?”

He only speaks once the lights are out and the two of them have ended up in bed together. They’ve got their separate rooms still, but on the hard nights, they usually end up in Dean’s. They’ve had a lot of those nights recently; right now, Dean’s staring up at the ceiling, because he can’t quite bring himself to look towards Sam when he asks the question. He can feel his brother close by, the warmth he’s emitting under the covers, but it’s just a little bit easier to set his focus elsewhere.

Sam doesn’t ask him to clarify. They know each other too well for that to be necessary. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I did, Dean. I just-”

He stops, and Dean just listens to him breathe for a moment. His words from earlier are still echoing in the back of Dean’s head, a twisted sort of promise that he wishes they didn’t have to make. He’s never really seen the romance in a suicide pact.

“I can’t be without you.” Sam’s quieter, when he continues. He shifts around a little bit, a subtle way to close the distance between them, and Dean lets it happen. “Not again.”

Maybe there’s something romantic about it, at the end of the day. Something beautiful, from a distance. Two people, so closely bonded that they can’t bear to live without each other, so desperate to stay together that one would gladly follow the other into death-

It hits too close to home for Dean. He’s been there too many times, felt the better half of his soul torn away from him, leaving a jagged scar in its place. It doesn’t heal, not really. It builds on top of itself, becomes a little harder to ignore every single time that Sam is taken away from him. A little harder to breathe. A little harder to keep going.

It’s a miracle they’ve made it as far as they have.

Slowly, Dean reaches out and finds Sam’s hand in the dark, links their fingers together. It’s a gesture that’s carried with them since childhood, a quiet reassurance that  _I’m here, I’m listening, I’m okay, I love you_. Sam squeezes his hand tight and Dean exhales.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t know what else to say, how to put into words the certainty that there’s only one way he will allow this to end. “Okay.”

Neither of them get much sleep that night. The threat of what’s to come hangs too close overhead, and the possibility of being separated again, of being ripped away from the most important person in all of creation, of being left alone-

At least, with Sam’s promise, it’s been dulled. At least whatever else happens, they’ll be together.

“‘Til death do us part” never really sat right with Dean, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	27. One-Hundred Seventeen: A Little Longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get a slow start the next morning, neither of them eager to face the world after such a rough night. Dean keeps his fingers curled tight in his brother’s shirt, and Sam makes no real attempt to get out of bed. It’s quiet and it’s unspoken, the two of them hiding from their responsibilities for however long they’re able to get away with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vague spoilers for 13.20.
> 
> Just more brother stuff.

They get a slow start the next morning, neither of them eager to face the world after such a rough night. Dean keeps his fingers curled tight in his brother’s shirt, and Sam makes no real attempt to get out of bed. It’s quiet and it’s unspoken, the two of them hiding from their responsibilities for however long they’re able to get away with it.

“We’re gonna have to get up eventually,” Sam tells him, and Dean’s eyes are still closed but he can feel his brother looking at him. “For breakfast, at least.”

That’s not a bad point. Dean huffs out a soft breath and presses closer, tightens his grip. “Later than sooner,” he mumbles. “Let’s just…”

He trails off, but he thinks Sam gets the picture. Dean opens his eyes just enough to see his brother, meet his gaze. Thinks maybe he’d like to stay here forever and leave everything else behind. Maybe that would make things easier.

Sam breathes out slowly and nods, shifts a little closer. Only a few inches separate them, and Dean’s grateful for it. Things always feel better when he can feel Sam’s breath on his skin, hear his brother’s heartbeat. “Yeah. A little longer.”

Dean smiles, just faintly, and then closes his eyes again. A little longer is good enough for him right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	28. One-Hundred Eighteen: Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John walks out of Missouri’s house feeling a whole lot like he’s about to throw up. The only reason he hasn’t already is that she threatened to smack him if he puked on her carpet; right now, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold onto the meagre breakfast he managed to make himself eat this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John and his babies and. Stuff.

John walks out of Missouri’s house feeling a whole lot like he’s about to throw up. The only reason he hasn’t already is that she threatened to smack him if he puked on her carpet; right now, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold onto the meagre breakfast he managed to make himself eat this morning.

He still doesn’t know what to make of any of it. Monsters, demons- something unnatural killed his wife, and that same thing wants something with one of his boys. Little Sammy, not even walking yet, who can only sleep these days with his big brother curled close- Sammy is what that demon wants, and John doesn’t have a damn clue what he’s supposed to do about it.

Of course Missouri told him what to do. Learn more, find people who could teach him about the world that hides in the shadows. Even gave him a few numbers to call, some specialists to contact. John’s not great at making friends, but it seems like he doesn’t have much of a choice now. Not if he wants to stay alive.

More important, though- there’s always something more important.

Sammy and Dean are both dozing in the car when he finally makes it there, safe and sound in Missouri’s driveway. They look peaceful, Sammy in his carseat and Dean curled up beside him, forever trying his best to stay close to his baby brother. It’s gotten worse, since the fire- Dean won’t let Sammy out of his sight now, not for anything- but John thinks maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Maybe it’s better for the two of them to stick together. To keep each other safe.

He’s careful when he climbs into the driver’s seat because he doesn’t want to disturb them, even as his mind races with everything he’s learned today. It’s hard to even think straight, to figure out what his first step is supposed to be, who he should call, where he should go, how he can possibly protect his family from the horrors of the world that’s just been revealed to him-

“Daddy?”

Dean still sounds like he’s half-asleep, and as John glances over his shoulder to look at his eldest, he looks the part, too. His eyes are only half-open and he hasn’t moved from his spot by Sammy’s side. “M'hungry.”

Despite himself- despite everything- John cracks a tiny smile. “We’ll go get something to eat, kiddo. Rest your eyes a bit longer.”

Lunch is as good a first step as any. John watches as Dean gives a sleepy nod and closes his eyes again, then turns to get the car started, letting out a slow breath. He can do this. He’s been through hell and made it out alive, and this- this is no different. That’s what he tells himself.

The world just got a whole lot bigger and a whole lot scarier, but he’ll be damned if he lets anything hurt his boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	29. One-Hundred Nineteen: Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, when Dean looks in the mirror, he’ll notice all the little things that have changed over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about Dean and food and how Dean might like being a little soft because it means he's eating properly and. yes.

Sometimes, when Dean looks in the mirror, he’ll notice all the little things that have changed over the years. He’s hardly twenty anymore, and it shows; he’s got more lines on his face, his collection of scars has grown with new monsters and new wounds, and his eyes reflect the years of struggle he’s been through since he started this life. He’s not the bright-eyed kid he used to be, full of hope and excitement about being a hero and saving people- not on the surface, at least.

What Dean focuses on today, though- the one change that makes him pause- is the way he’s so much softer than he used to be.

It’s not exceptionally noticeable; he’s still in good shape, despite the questionable diet he clings to. Sam’s been trying to get him to eat more vegetables recently, nagging him about heart disease and reminding Dean that they’re “getting up there” in terms of age, and maybe it would be a good idea to start eating healthy. Dean’s heard it all before, and he’s hardly let that stop him from his burgers n’ booze habits, but if it makes Sam happy to see him eat a carrot every once and a while- hell, Dean can give his brother that much.

That said, there’s definitely a softness to him that there wasn’t when he was a teenager. A little bit of give when he presses his fingertips against his tummy. His facial features aren’t quite as sharply defined as he remembers them being twenty years ago, and all of it- he’s pretty sure there’s a good reason for that, when he thinks back to his childhood. Money shortages, meals skipped for the sake of paying another day of rent. Too much exercise and not enough food to make up the calories.

“Dean?” Sam pokes his head into the bathroom without knocking, and Dean barely glances up. “I was thinking about ordering pizza for dinner?”

Dean smiles at himself in the mirror and thinks about the full fridge and pantry they’ve got for themselves these days. The fact that he’s got a real kitchen where he can cook real food whenever he feels like it, for both himself and his little brother. How he hasn’t worried about keeping either of them fed in years.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He glances towards Sam, tugs his shirt back down. “Make sure we get enough for leftovers.”

It’s nice to finally have this sense of security, and he likes that it’s started to show. It feels good to be a little soft around the edges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	30. One-Hundred Twenty: Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C'mon, Dean. Smile?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Stanford. Sam gets himself a camera.

“C'mon, Dean. Smile?”

Dean rolls his eyes because he can’t help himself, glancing up from the car’s insides to see the camera that Sam’s holding in front of his face. Seventeen years old and his little brother has become enamoured with photography; he’s been saving money for months to be able to scrape together enough to get himself something to work with, and now that he’s got the thing- well, he seems determined to use it.

“You’re not smiling,” Sam tells him, peeking out from behind the camera. “Just once?”

“Why?” Dean asks, one part annoyed and one part genuinely curious. He’s not sure what’s landed Sam here in the first place, but thinks it’s probably something sappy. Preserving memories or some crap like that. “It’s hot. The engine’s making a weird sound. Not really a smiling kind of mood, Sam.”

Maybe he’s being a little bullheaded about the whole thing, but he’s not used to having cameras around. The handful of pictures their family collectively owns number in the single digits, and they’re mostly from before the fire. Dad’s not all that sentimental, and Dean figured it all just seemed like a waste of space. Not like they’ll live long enough to look back and appreciate it all, right?

But Sam seems determined.

“Humour me?” He offers a tiny smile, lifts the camera again. “Please? I’ll go get you a beer if you do.”

Dean considers that for a moment, squints a little bit in the sun. Sam’s giving him the puppy eyes, and- hell. It’s hard to say no to that. So Dean sighs, reaching up to wipe the sweat off his forehead before he rolls his shoulder back. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Just the one. And it better be a cold beer.”

Seeing the way Sam lights up is more than enough to pull a smile out of Dean, and he barely notices the little  _click_ that follows. He’s just all caught up in watching his little brother, excited about this tiny thing for whatever reasons he might have, and Dean thinks that maybe it’s not such a burden to indulge him a little bit.

“I think I might try to get an album or something,” Sam tells him as Dean turns back to his work. “Somewhere to keep everything, you know? Protect ‘em. And then I’ll have them for- for later. To look at.”

There’s something a little odd in Sam’s tone of voice, and it makes Dean pause, but he quickly lets it go. He’s probably just happy for the opportunity to do something like this, and Dean imagines he’ll be spending the whole summer snapping as many photos as possible. No sense in getting himself grumpy about it now. “Yeah, I guess so. Might not be so bad.”

Sam’s quiet after that, but he brings Dean his beer and sits close by to watch him work on the car. It’s a comfortable silence, and Sam keeps his camera close by, and when Dean’s finished, Sam even talks him into taking a picture together- just the one, Dean’s arm thrown around Sam’s shoulders, Sam tucked in close to his side. He’s nearly too big for it now- the growth spurts just keep coming- but they manage, and it leaves Sam with a little smile on his face, so Dean figures it’s worth it.

“Thanks.” Sam’s quiet when he says it, and Dean glances his way. “For, um- for letting me.”

Dean just smiles and gives him a nudge on the way back towards the room. He’s done for the day, and they’re due some food. “It’s actually kinda fun. Who knows, maybe you’ll get good at it, huh?”

It’s easy to dismiss the weird energy coming off Sam with such a good day behind him. and with Sam close by his side. Dean decides he’s even looking forward to seeing the developed photos. It can’t hurt to have a few more keepsakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


End file.
